I almost never turn off movies before they are done but I couldn't finish this one. It was apparently an influence on John Waters and was an early example of do it yourself type cinema and was forward thinking in having depictions of the gay lifestyle but it doens't show much talent on the part of the film makers.

I'v been tempted several times over the years to seek this one out, but I bet I can resist a lot longer after reading your review. Thanks!

By the way, the audio clip is a couple of cues from Bernard Herrmann's 7TH VOYAGE OF SINBAD score (the appearance of the two-headed Roc and the snake lady's dance). From what I understand the whole soundtrack is made up of ripped off bits from other film scores.

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It was apparently an influence on John Waters and was an early example of do it yourself type cinema and was forward thinking in having depictions of the gay lifestyle but it doens't show much talent on the part of the film makers.

By the way, the audio clip is a couple of cues from Bernard Herrmann's 7TH VOYAGE OF SINBAD score (the appearance of the two-headed Roc and the snake lady's dance). From what I understand the whole soundtrack is made up of ripped off bits from other film scores.

I was able to pin down the music to the Sinbad film, but decided to just allude to the original film with this from Stuff to watch for: Opening Credits - I know this music, and I associate it with a film that was...Middle Eastern?

Having one's testicles turned into a sparkling testament to Tesla became another entry on my "Ways I Do Not Want To Die" list.

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Well, I don't have any vicodin. My mother-in-law drank all of our vodka (and the wine, and the beer, and...). I watched "Sins of the Fleshapoids" in complete control of my personal faculties. Not a pleasant way to spend a Sunday evening.

The last comment about Katie's mom swigging all the booze made me think of a character in Jack Higgins' The Eagle Has Landed where he comes across an Irishman who's been to a 20 hour wake. The character says to him: "God save us, son but from the smell of you, if I lit a match, we'd both be in hell together."

Thanks for the great review: it put a smile on my face on a cold Monday morning.

Not only did I see it, I liked it, and wrote a review back when I saw it!

"Sins of the Fleshapoids" (1965, Mike Kuchar):

Well, that was interesting.

Zero-budget pseudo-sci-fi pseudo-sexual pseudo short film nominally about sentient descendents of robots to serve a shiftless humanity. The film has all the hallmarks of Z-grade trash crap cinema: bad acting, an inscrutable quote-unquote "plot", poor sound editing, basement sets, homely actors and a narrator SCREAMING at us in nonsensical double-talk.

The Kuchar brothers have a reputation and garner the same respect as being in the same scene with luminaries of experimental trash cinema such as John Waters and Andy Warhol. Finding filmmaking an attractive occupation of sorts AND having numerous experiences in "having no money", I always enjoy when someone like Roger Corman or Edgar Ulmer can get a captivating story out of a community theatre troupe and some stock footage from the '40s and Mike Kuchar...well, he hasn't exactly fashioned a "captivating" story, but the low-grade inventiveness was endearing and entertaining throughout, from solving the problem of sound editing (word bubbles appear on-screen!, innovation that could have made every silent film ever made 40% shorter) to solving the problem of "finding a giant futuristic castle next to a forest" (draw a picture, then put a brand in front of it), it was definitely fun to see how they would embrace their budget next.

That is what I would have to enjoy, because at about the 20-minute mark, I pretty much had no idea what the f-ck was going on. I knew the general story, but the cast and crew apparently improvised as they went along, and it shows. New characters, chase scenes, and emotional outbursts came and went, but I've never valued "coherence" as highly as other qualities ("Southland Tales" is in my top 15 of [2007]), and by the time our heroine arbitrarily picked a new beau, dressed him up like a football player and Eskimo kissed him, I knew the way I had to accept this film.

It's kitsch, and it's damn fun.

[Also, I hate watching things and then not counting them because they're not feature films...goddamnit, if you have more than 40 minutes, that's good enough.]

Not only did I see it, I liked it, and wrote a review back when I saw it!

"Sins of the Fleshapoids" (1965, Mike Kuchar):

Well, that was interesting.

Zero-budget pseudo-sci-fi pseudo-sexual pseudo short film nominally about sentient descendents of robots to serve a shiftless humanity. The film has all the hallmarks of Z-grade trash crap cinema: bad acting, an inscrutable quote-unquote "plot", poor sound editing, basement sets, homely actors and a narrator SCREAMING at us in nonsensical double-talk.

The Kuchar brothers have a reputation and garner the same respect as being in the same scene with luminaries of experimental trash cinema such as John Waters and Andy Warhol. Finding filmmaking an attractive occupation of sorts AND having numerous experiences in "having no money", I always enjoy when someone like Roger Corman or Edgar Ulmer can get a captivating story out of a community theatre troupe and some stock footage from the '40s and Mike Kuchar...well, he hasn't exactly fashioned a "captivating" story, but the low-grade inventiveness was endearing and entertaining throughout, from solving the problem of sound editing (word bubbles appear on-screen!, innovation that could have made every silent film ever made 40% shorter) to solving the problem of "finding a giant futuristic castle next to a forest" (draw a picture, then put a brand in front of it), it was definitely fun to see how they would embrace their budget next.

That is what I would have to enjoy, because at about the 20-minute mark, I pretty much had no idea what the f-ck was going on. I knew the general story, but the cast and crew apparently improvised as they went along, and it shows. New characters, chase scenes, and emotional outbursts came and went, but I've never valued "coherence" as highly as other qualities ("Southland Tales" is in my top 15 of [2007]), and by the time our heroine arbitrarily picked a new beau, dressed him up like a football player and Eskimo kissed him, I knew the way I had to accept this film.

It's kitsch, and it's damn fun.

[Also, I hate watching things and then not counting them because they're not feature films...goddamnit, if you have more than 40 minutes, that's good enough.]